


Wool

by orphan_account



Series: Give Them A Baby [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: And it sucks, Angry Sherlock, Case Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter References, I tried writing porn, M/M, Parentlock, Post Reichenbach, Puppies, lestrade is done, sherlock experiments on the dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 07:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Great Dane find's a baby girl in the trash and when Lestrade calls up Sherlock and John to the hospital John falls in love with the little girl. Sherlock tries to find her mother, or any other family, and Mrs. Hudson tries to do a kindness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dammit Mycroft.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long Christmas present for a friend and will be kinda long. No promises of the sex because I cannot write those to save my life, but if you can and want to write me one I will name my first born child after you and hold festivals in your honor.

Lestrade sent Sherlock 23 texts before calling John.

“Christ, 23 messages? Why didn’t you call me after, I don’t know, the 10th message?” John picked up Sherlock’s abandoned mobile, turned on the screen, and laughed to himself at the pop up saying ‘23 new messages from Lesty’

“Well the man normally answers me!”

“He didn’t shower for two weeks. No deodorant either, do you know how bad my flat has smelt? Horrid. He’s in the shower and he’ll stay in that shower until he no longer smells like a wet gym sock. So, if you could please, tell me what was so important you sent 23 messages?”

“Just get to Steel’s Lane as soon as you can.”Lestrade hung up and John waited for the towel baring Sherlock to come out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later Sherlock came into their bedroom, hair like a wet sheepdog clinging for dear life on his forehead letting drops of water fall off and trail down his skin, with a fluffy plum towel covering his dignity that dropped once he found undergarments. John looked away from the framed periodic table on the wall and to the awkward man trying to debate how to dry his hair; towel it dry, let it dry on its own, fluff it with his fingers or blow dry it.

“23 text messages?”

“23 text messages,”

“23 text messages and then he calls you?”

“Yes, Sherlock,”

“Well what was so important it needed 23 text messages?” Sherlock got a baby blue button up while John fished his own shoes out from under his side of the bed, "He said we need to go to Steel's Lane Hospital as soon as possible," Sherlock stopped mid button, a million scenarios for why they were needed there flew through his head, "Who's injured?" John finished with his shoes and decided to take the chance to play with Sherlock's hair and it not eat his hand, fluffing it up and shaking the water out of it, "Put on trouser on and we'll find out."

None of the millions of scenarios came close to what they had waiting.

\-------------

4 kilos

48 cm

6 hours old

Female

Baby Jane Doe.

Sherlock was confused, not by the little person who was under the heat lamp like a oversized lizard with a little IV in her, by the fact someone threw this little girl in the trash and if it wasn't for a Great Dane on a walk with his owner finding the box that she had been left in it would have been her grave. Donovan tried going in "giving a woman's motherly touch" but Baby Jane Doe screamed at the very sight of Sally, the Baby was smart Sherlock thought.

"Why'd you call me?" He asked when Lestrade stood next to him, peeking through the window at the 4 little babies in the room with Baby Jane Doe, "We need to find her mother, she's the one who most likely put in the cardboard tomb. I know you were looking forward to a murder, but instead we got a baby, now will you help us?" Sherlock inhaled deeply, the large hallway they were standing in to watch John and Donovan coo over Baby Jane Doe smelt of disinfect and baby power. He looked at the little creature in her bed.Thick black hair that was a bit longer than a normal newborn was just past her chin, a light pink still kept itself on her, her eyes closed but big and her little mouth opened with cries whenever Donovan got too close to her; she only let John touch her without sounding an alarm.“I’ll find the mother.”

\-------------

Sherlock pressed the doorbell and mentally prepared himself for the old woman that would be answering the door. Elisa Hemsworthly, 73, 39 kilos, 1.46 meters with light purple hair and a hunch, lived in the flat next to where Baby Jane Doe was found and if anyone saw anything it would have been her. There was an unlocking of many locks before the woman opened the door, which still had a chain on it, and glared at him.

Sherlock smiled at the little old lady and acted on his best behavior, honestly he thought he couldn't have been nicer if he had a gun on his back and was being forced, “Hello, My name is Sherlock Holme, I need to know if you hear,saw, or even smelt anything out of the ordinary on Saturday between the hours of 5am and 10am” Elisa just continued to stare at him, frankly he was starting to get uncomfortable, then asked from his ID.

“Ma’am, the police come to me when they need help,”

“Doesn’t answer my question, now does it curly-Q. Do. You. Have. A. Police. ID.”

The little old lady held a look of “You’re on drugs if you think you’re coming in here” and Sherlock did a small dance out of frustration, he wanted to shove past the woman, sit in her front room, and not leave until she told him what she knew, but he had promised John he would be kinder to people, especially elderly people since they couldn’t save that old woman who Moriarty had shot, though it wasn’t Sherlock’s fault she started describing the dead man to him, and this old walking skeleton was, in fact, a person and thus he had to be kind to her. Elisa Hemsworthly had been a dead end.

The only person who could have possibly seen anything had enough bolts on her door to keep out the Incredible Hulk and would differently not talk to Sherlock without a badge wheeling person with him. Hailing a cab, he took out his mobile and texted John:

_need you to come back to Hemsworthly’s later, woman refuses to talk to me. -SH_

As a cab pulled up and Sherlock sat down he felt he should add:

_Bring your Military ID along too -SH_

His fingers drummed along the screen as he waited for an answer, after five minutes he sent :

_Dinner? Mrs. Hudson told me about this little place by the hospital BJD is at -Sh_

It seemed the promise of food lead John out of playing, which, last Sherlock saw her, Baby Jane Doe couldn’t do ever much of. _Baby Jane Doe_ he thought _Really, we must come up with another name for her._ It was only 6 at night meaning that ‘going back to Hemsworthly’ would have to wait until tomorrow.

  _Finishing up with the Baby now, they’ve took out her IVs and she’s gained .34 kilos -JW_

John really did seem to love this baby, probably the whole ' _almost 40 and not having children_ ' thing that makes him coo over any baby they saw. I could have Mycroft have them release her into our custody, of course then I'd have to make a honest man out of John then. Sherlock laughed to himself then busied himself with his phone.

“She’s getting bigger! She’s not as pink as before and she’s opening her eyes, Sherlock, she wasn’t opening them when we first saw her earlier this week,” John was buzzing in his chair, his eyes light up as he talked about Baby Jane Doe. He looked down at the menu just to tell the waiter Lemonade, Sherlock getting water, then studied the laminated paper like it could tell Sherlock and himself who BJD's mother was and why she left the infant in the cardboard box tomb.

All Sherlock could think was that the woman was young, freaked out when she went into labor, was most likely lived alone because there was no way she wasn’t screaming from the apocalyptic pain from the contractions, meaning she might have been a college student. What he couldn’t figure out was why hadn’t she gone to the hospital? Why had she put the little girl in the trash?

\-------------

From the first glance at the woman Sherlock already knew a lot, like she had gotten married in the early 1960’s and had been married for about 40 years until her husband died. John and his military ID had gotten them into her overly protected home, they sat on an uncomfortable lilac sofa that had tiny yellow flowers trickling over it, the whole place smelt of old person.

Sherlock left the talking to John, he generally worked better with the elderly better than him,and looked around her flat. Pictures of family were everywhere, she seemed to have 5 children, 14 grandchildren and at least 10 great grandchildren, from dingy, water damaged in some places, orange pictures with worn out unsmiling faces to vibrant colors that demand you to look at them with bright eyed smiling children and a few hand drawn pictures from over the years.

“It was 7 Saturday morning, I was in my kitchen making my tea and waiting for my Grandson Louis to come over and drive me to the home for the day, it’s like a daycare for the other elderlies like me, when I saw a man with a big box and I remember thinking how odd it was because I’ve never seen him before and I know all the neighbors and then after he put the box in the rubbish pile he put things on top of it, looked around, looked up at me and I smiled and waved at him, then he ran away.”

John smiled at her, she sitting in an armchair across the coffee table drinking her tea, then asked her to describe the man. “Well, he had short black hair that was kind of in wosh” Elisa held the back of her wrist to her forehead and opened her palm to show the hairstyle, “And I remember being purely shocked by the color of pure clover green eyes this man had, he seemed to be Italian and was wearing a leather jacket with a red shirt.” John smiled again, “Thank you, Mrs. Hemsworthly, it really helps. We must be going now, though,” They got up to leave, Sherlock had pulled out his phone and was finding the Italian population in London (roughly 39 thousand), John thanked the old woman again, and they left.

\-------------

_I need to know the addresses of all the Italian blood men between the ages of 17 and 24 within a 6 kilo area of Elisa Mary Hemsworthly -SH_

John fell asleep an hour ago, at first he had his head resting on Sherlock’s chest but now curled up facing opposed of Sherlock,

_No you do not -MH_

_It’s for a case Mycroft, just give me the addresses it’s important -SH_

_Also I need you to pull some strings so BJD gets released to me and John -SH_

_Fine, I’ll email them to you and why am I releasing a new born baby into your custody? -MH_

_Because she has no home, no parents that want her and John loves this baby like it’s his own. -SH_

A lot of names had been bouncing in his head for her. He felt sick at the thought of keeping her name Jane, the name of any female they find, dead or alive, and don’t know her name, it would be like a smack to her little face in Sherlock’s mind. He thought of something common; like Anna, Ashley, Jessica or Lura. Names like Louise, Vinette, and even Una had crossed his mind, but none felt right. She needed something that was Feminine but also Fearful, that wouldn’t be common, and slightly unique, so he turned to myths. Hera (Greek goddess of marriage), Bastet (Egyptian goddess of love and beauty), Oshun (Yoruba goddess of beauty and wealth) then he remember the Norse Goddess Freya, it was perfect. All the other Goddess’s had been simply goddess of Beauty, Love, or Dance, Freya was goddess of love and beauty as well but also war, death, and magic. Freya Johnna Watson-Holmes yes, that’s it.

\-------------

There was 5 men living within 6 kilos of Mrs. Hemsworthly’s front door.

First door was answered by small child who’s tried mother, it looked like the four year old was the last time she had been pregnant, came running up behind him scolding him, “Chester, You have to stop doing that!”. The next was a teenaged boy who looked at Sherlock with utter confusion, his hair was dark and long enough to the ‘woosh’ as the old woman had put it but he was lacking the green eyes, asked him what the hell he wanted, then slammed the door in Sherlock’s face. An old man, a lady whose boyfriend was at work (meaning the man he saw behind her who was, as far as he could tell was, nude wasn’t her boyfriend) and she didn’t seem to have ever been pregnant.

The last door was answered by a woman who was at least 40 with red rimmed eyes and a raw nose, she had been crying, “Hel-hel-hello?” before he could open his mouth he could hear John’s voice in his head ‘Sympathy, Sherlock, you catch more flies with honey than you do vinger’ at the time Sherlock questioned why anyone would want to catch flies but still, maybe being kinder would help. “Oh gosh, are you okay? I was just going to ask if you a few questions, but do you need help ma’am?” the woman shakes no, stifling tears, "what do you need to know?" "Can we go inside?"

The flat was large, hardwood floors that echoed each step, Sherlock sat down on the brown leather couch next to the now sobbing woman, “I’m sorry, I’m so very very sorry. It’s my daughter, Olivia, she hasn’t been home in 2 weeks and she’s very heavily pregnant and I’m scared something might have happened to her,” Sherlock looked at woman, 42, divorced for 5 years, 4 children, 2 grandchildren, wealthy, got her hair and nails done regularly, “I work with the police, I came here to ask if you noticed anything odd about your daughter?” the woman wiped her eyes, smearing her make up even more, “I’m guessing Jeremy called the police, I mean other than the normal pregnant at 19 a with an abusive boyfriend problems. Fuking Mitchell, he probably threw her down some stairs again, I told her to leave him but she wouldn’t listen to me!” Sherlock held the lady’s hand in his, “I’m sure she’s fine, I need to know Mitchell’s address.”

Mitchell was abusing her and, so it seemed, to be Freya’s biological father. “I aint see Olivia in 2 weeks,” Sherlock shifted from one foot to the other, the man was pretty tall, taller than Sherlock, with big blue eyes and a nose was too small for his face, “Are you not concerned, she is carrying a baby that is part yours,” Mitchell shrugged and leaned against the door, “I don’t want no baby, I told her to get rid of the fucking thing, even threw her down some steps to try to get my point across to her.”

\-------------

“I do not understand why I am in the cell, Lestrade let me out,”

“You assaulted a man, Sherlock!”

“HE WAS A FUCKING TWAT AND HE’S LUCKY NOTHING BAD HAPPENED TO FREYA NOW LET ME OUT!”

If he tried hard enough he could find a way out of the cell but no, all his mental power went to the case right now. Olivia was dead, he had no doubt of this with both mum and abusive boyfriend not seeing her in 2 weeks, what he needed to do now is find her body, find out who killed her and why. If there’s anything could do he’ll make sure that nobody in _the fucking family get the baby._

“No, you have to wait until John picks you up,” Sherlock paced back and forth, “HE THREW A PREGNANT WOMAN DOWN STAIRS!” he screamed and punched the wall, the skin on his knuckles break, start gushing over with blood, and a sharp pain coming from his middle knuckle ‘broken’ he thought, pacing again, “HE COULD HAVE KILLED OLIVIA AND FREYA! HE’S THE BIGGEST FUCKING CUNT TO EVER WALK THE EARTH, I WOULD RATHER SPEND THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH ANDERSON THEN THAT DISGUSTING PIECE OF SHIT,”He could feel the heat of rage raising higher up his body, first in his gut then flooding up his neck to his cheeks, along with everyone in the room, Lestrade, three watch officers, and a handful of men and women all in their own, some shared, cells, watching him like a bad car accident. They knew they must look away but they’re eyes transfixed to the bouncing ball of pure anger that was now Sherlock.

John came and while in the cabbie didn’t say ask why Sherlock had a broken hand or why he had beaten Mitchell Miller within an inch of his life. He had simply twisted Sherlock’s broken finger into painful angle the whole ride and glared at the drivers headrest, not making a single sound.

“Why the hell would you do that?” he asked, obviously struggling to keep his voice down and calm, “Not only do you break a man’s nose and arm but you break your own finger punching a damn wall. Why?” John got him a splint out of the closet and glared from the kitchen at Sherlock on the sofa. “Why did I punch a wall or why did I beat Mitchell Miller?” John wandered into the kitchen and rustling with something, a box it sounded like, “Both,” He went limp on the couch, _maybe_ he thought _if I try my best, I can blend into the sofa and he won't see me and badger me with questions_ , “Are you going to tell me?” _Damn._

“Mitchell Miller is Freya’s biological father an-”

“Wait who’s Freya?”

“It’s what I’ve named the baby, I felt like calling her Baby Jane Doe was insulting”

“What’s Frey- You know what never mind I’ll look it up later. Why did you break the man’s damn nose?”

“He shoved her biological mother down stairs while she was pregnant. Also I don’t believe she’s alive, Mother was already talking about her in past tense and Mitchell doesn’t care about either of them.”

John came back out of the kitchen clutching a box and sent it gently on the coffee table, “What’s that” Sherlock asked, going to sit up but put all his weight on his right hand, the one with the broken finger, and couldn’t sit fully up to look into the box, “Well I was talking to Mrs. Hudson while you were adding ‘assault’ to your criminal record about wishing we could, you know, have a child even though that’s impossible, then she went to the store while I watched bad telly and she came back with ummmm..... Him.” Sherlock’s eyes widen _shitshitshitshit nononononono_ and as he leaned forward to look at ‘Him’ the doorbell rings, _of course_.


	2. Cupcake man chasing the black french man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock must unravel the mess that is the disappearance of a Miss Olivia Burr, the birth mother of the baby him and John are now calling theirs. No butt stuff, sorry,mainly just them being domestic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best friends' sister just had her baby earlier this week, I've been laughing at that, so I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to up date. Also, for those wondering, I've been naming the chapters based off the last dream I had before posting.
> 
> My offer for someone who writes some smut for me stands, you get Co- author stat, Credit for such amazing porn, and my first born (Or if you don't want a child I'll send you cookies in the mail no joke)

John didn’t talk to Sherlock when they got in the cabby, leaving Baby Freya and 4 month old boxer puppy Tiberius (“That name is awful, John,” “Oh, and Freya isn’t? C’mon, it’s like James T Kirk”) with Mrs. Hudson so they could get what the two babies needed. The list ,that was written with a pen so hard it almost tore in a few places, was clutched in John’s fist as he looked out the window, refusing to even speak to Sherlock let alone look at him.

“John, I’m sorry. I thought Mycroft would at least text me when he was going to drop off Freya and that I would have time to tell you we were getting her, okay? Just please, please, talk to me. Say something, anything,” John doesn’t answer, he was just as silent as before, if anything he tightened his grip on the list, and kept looking out the window as they went past little shoppes.

They arrive at a small store that Mrs. Hudson recommended, _Baby wonderland_ printed on an ungodly shade of bright pink with a wood crib with green blanket themed in Safari hanging on the bar in the window. Sherlock holds the door open for John, who gets on his toes to peck him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

“I don’t understand why they only make there’s horrid things that snap in the crouch! She’s our little girl and I’m going to spoil her all I want!” Sherlock shook the red onesie with a hippo in a tutu on it with anger, “It’s easier to change them that way,” but even John’s grimacing at the ugly thing.

They had a cart with a box with a crib inside, a changing table, a few dresses and little outfits, bottles, formula, and diapers, the owner overjoyed when she found out they were ‘Hudson’s boys’ getting things for the baby that was dropped on their doorstep, “Hudson’s boys” John laughed putting in a blue sundress with little shorts, “Makes us sound like some sort of gang.”

\-------------

Sherlock watched as John held Freya on his shoulder and bounced a slightly to ease her to sleep, which was finally working after hours of trying. Little Tiberius was curled up next to his thigh sleeping, his coat was a brindle with light fawn with dark stripes and a pink splotch on his nose. Sherlock had put together the crib about 4 ago, now it was 11 and she was just falling asleep with a thumb in her mouth hell we forgot pacifiers he thought but wouldn't dare open his mouth until the three week old was put in her room upstairs asleep. Soon it would be Christmas, okay so about a month away but snow had already started coming.

John slipped into Freya's room and put her down, turning on the monitor. Tiberius grunted with protest but got up and padded off to the kitchen where his water dish was when Sherlock nudged him off the sofa to make room for himself to lay down. John came down and crashed onto of him, causing an ooof to come out of Sherlock, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck, “We forgot pacifiers” he groaned and head butted the lanky man’s chest, “I’ll go get some, there’s a store open 24 hours 4 blocks away right?” John went to push himself off of Sherlock but he pulled him back, “Yes there is a shop but you will not be going. You are going to lie here on me with your head on my chest and you are going to go to sleep,” John sighed, “And what if Freya wakes up?” Sherlock sat up, knocking the other man off and falling to the ground, “C’mon, we’re going to bed and if Freya wakes up I’ll get her. I’m not stupid with babies, John, I know how to handle them,” There was a huff from the floor where John landed but he stood up and walked to their room with Tiberius in tow.

John wrapped his fingers in the curls causing said curls owner to smile against his chest. He could hear the doctors heartbeat and lungs expanding and shrinking with each breath, "I love this, what we have right now. Freya, the dog, and I have you again," _oh god he's going to ramble himself to sleep again_ , "God, those two years without you were horrible. I woke up every morning after a tops of 4 hours of sleep and debate if I should put a bullet through my brain. I met Mary and I was ready to settle for her but I couldn't get over how much I love you,Sherlock. I’ve loved you, since you slammed that door in Anderson's face at the pink lady’s scene," his fingers mused in the thick hair as sleep started to take him, "I love you too, John."

\-------------

Sherlock groaned as he bounded up the steps to Catherine's, Olivia's mother,  flat. He needed to know what she did before she went missing and this was the only way out, this time there is no answer and he went pouting down the street. John threw a little fuss when he said he had to go this morning, asking why he and Freya couldn't come. ("because she's only 3 weeks old! Let's wait until she's no longer doing an impersonation of a bobble head before we bring her out into public.")

_She went into labor after being gone two weeks. Where could she have gone?  She would have been for two weeks without contracting anyone?_

He started walking down an alleyway, _should I take the dog to the dogpark? He could play and I could think_ he leaned and handed a homeless man ,with a thick army of jackets and jumpers to help keep him warm, a couple bills. “Sir, were you here about a month ago? While the young pregnant woman still lived there?” He man looked up and smiled, “You mean Olivia? Yeah, I stick around here because the people here are nice and she’d bring me food when Catherine would leave, that woman is so mean. She treated to call the coppers on me if I didn’t move from here, but as you see I’ve got it kinda good, y’know, for being a bum. Haven’t seen Olivia in a couple weeks though, I remember the night she left, her and Catherine got into a fight, from the sound of what I heard it was over Olivia and Poppy, that’s what she’s naming her baby girl, and living having a place to live. Next thing I knew Olivia is running out of the flat, have you ever seen pregnant woman run It’s pretty funny, and she’s crying and Catherine yelling out from the window, “I’M CALLIN’ THE FAMILY, NOBODY’S GONNA LET YOUR WHORE SELF SLEEP AT THEIR HOUSE” and poor lil’ Olivia  hasn’t been back.”

Sherlock handed the man another couple bills.

\-------------

“What do you mean she was going to name this little ball of joy ‘Poppy’? Such a horrible name, Sherlock, I love the name you chose ‘Freya’ sounds so much more posh and proper!” Mrs. Hudson said hitting the button on the bouncy chair, making the little planets and shooting stars spin around and circle her, “Such a happy baby, she is, she’ll be smiling early,” Sherlock had his eyes closed, trying to pin together the information he had to make sense, John and Mrs. Hudson  were going on about child development, what ages they laugh and at what age they can see further away,  and it was making it hard for him to think "shut up I-" the words came out louder, full with more furry and announce than he had anticipated, making everyone in the room jump and look at him and Freya start crying. _Shit Sherlock_ his inner monologue said as he jumped up to her up from her blue bouncer. Her little head fit in the crook of his elbow, little screams expelling from her little body making his heart hurt because _I scared her making her cry if I could just keep my damn mouth quiet or I could just stay calm I wouldn't have done this._

He shushed her as he walked to his and John's room, putting a bit more rhythm in his walk  to calm her. She had quieted once they made it to the room but he didn't put her down, just kept thinking of her mother.

_A close-to-due-date 19 year old who just got into a fight with her mum would go to family, grandmother, father, brother, anyone, she must have went to Millers', both mum and boyfriend hadn't seen her in 2 weeks, but he wouldn't have her stay, he didn't want her to keep Freya why would he give her a place to sleep?  Even if Catherine did call them it wouldn't have been everyone and only a few would even think about telling her no, married in uncles and aunts and none close cousins, dad and grandmother most likely letter her stay, dad to smite Catherine and grandmother, because most grandparents love their grandchildren, she would have let her stay._

He looked down at little Freya fast asleep on his chest. He would text Lestrade later, lie and say that the Case will take him a bit longer on the case. If he focused and didn't have a baby at home he could finish this case in a week, two tops, but he did have a newborn baby, a not fully potty trained puppy, and a boyfriend who he was keeping captive in the flat. He wasn't going to be his parents who left him to be raised by an army of nannies, like nanny Mandi teaching him at 6 how to 'twist and defuse' his curls, nanny Rhonda trying to convince him at 8 that if you put a tooth under your pillow a fairy comes, or Nanny Julie who, at 12 years old, Sherlock walked in on changing, saw her breast, declared breast to be the most _useless_ things in the world and, until he was strung out on coke while still a lad, never touched or even wanted to look at again.

Freya wasn’t going to be missing a parent. She would have both John _and_ himself, even if it meant cases were to wait for Freya first.


	3. Why Did I Drink A Gallon Of Water, Now I Shall Piss An Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock loves Freya's talking; loud meaningless babbling coming from that little body.  
> Sherlock does not love her allergy to the new formula they got her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my hardest, I really did, to attempt to write porn and about halfway through i chickened out. No sex, close to but no. Also, I'm sorry for the chapter names but hey, I like naming them whatever is on my mind.

“Grrupbahbahlalala”  
“Uh huh I see, go on”  
“Muphulaguh”  
“Really Now?”

This had been going on for an hour now, John was at the shop getting formula and food for him and Sherlock, Freya had taken a shining to taking the toys she had, banging them against whatever her heart desired and making high pitch tridactyl like noises. Now she was in her bouncer, arms flailing, grinning so big and bright Sherlock was convinced she was going to break her face in two, having a conversation with him. We still must think of what she’ll be calling us once she starts talking.

“Gahburripp”  
“I never would have guessed!”

Her facial expressions were big and animated, Sherlock tried his best to match them and grinned at the twinkle in her eyes when he made faces back. John had looked up on youtube how to tie her little dark brown hairs up so her head looked like it was sporting a palm tree (“That has got to be the stupidest hairdo I’ve ever seen” “You seem to forget that fellow, oh what’s his name, he acts in that American show and plays the angel? Anyways did you forget his hair when he had screen time for the first time on that show? It was horrid!”) and it was now waving side to side with each sequel and giggle.

“NUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGAR”  
“......... I’m telling Dada you said that”

\-------------

Tiberius ran up and down the steps, trying to get one of them to take him the hell outside, “Tib, it’s storming you’re not going outside!” John called from the couch, the baby in arm with a bottle in her pie hole, “Finish up with her, I’ll take him out,” Sherlock came bonding from the kitchen, the boxers’ red leash in hand, the sound caused an explosion in the pup and he danced with joy around the long legs of Sherlock. He bent down, kissed the top of Freya’s head, who was fast asleep and simply sleep-suckling on the bottle, and went in for a quick kiss from John, who used his hand that wasn’t clutching their child to quickly know into Sherlock’s curls, made the quick dive more intense, releasing him after a bit to the lip , “Oh” was all he could get out, “Oh?” John smiled and stretched up, this kiss being the short one Sherlock ment in the first place “Hurry back”

The poor dog had barely finished pooping when a soaked Sherlock started basically dragging him away from the scene of the dumping, not that he was going to pick it up. He opened the door to 221, released Tiberius, who ran straight for his little humans room, and went to the living room.

No John anywhere in sight.

He looked in the kitchen.

Nope.

Bathroom.

No.

In the bedroom was crouching tiger hidden John, who jumped on him the moment he entered the room, kissing his hard and trapping him on the wall. An 'Eurk!' Escaped, John's hands got lost in the thick curls and Sherlock's hands went to his ass, making the shorter jump closer to him as if their bodies weren't close enough. A sizeable mark was getting made near Sherlock's Adams Apple, he struggled with the leather belt that John insisted on wearing even though they've been at home all day. Pulling him by the locks from the wall to their bed, stripping off the t shirt Sherlock was wearing, John straddle his thighs and, now demanded sub for this night, Sherlock dropped his head against the pillows and waited. He stifled a moan when the doctor started moving his hips, "get them" he felt a smile spread from the blonde whose mission in life seemed to be cause the biggest and deepest hickey on Sherlock's neck, "you sure you want to? What if Freya wa-" " I'm going to have to ask you to _not_ bring up our daughter whilst we have sex."

John let out a small laugh and leaned down, kissing slowly, with complete patience even making Sherlock slow down when he tried to speed up. Frustrated, he lifted his hips and rutted against the 4 layers that laid between. John broke the painfully slowness of their kissing, leaning over to the nightstand and pulling out two scarfs, an "oh" leaving Sherlock at the sight of the blue and red scarfs, "got new one?" He asked, taking the opportunity to undo john's belt and zipper and pull it down as far as he could with the man still on top of him. "I had to, Sherlock" _oh my god yes just say my name for the rest of your life please_ , " you fucking tore the last ones." John took one of Sherlock's wrists, bounded it up in a red silk scarf and tied the other end to the bed frame "silk? Aren't you afraid I'll rip these ones as well?" He ran his fingers through the dark hairs on John's stomach, gasping when John was finished tying and pulled on his hair, his head dropped back immediately and a moan spilling out, “Well then, I’d have to teach you a lesson, wouldn’t I?”

John finished tying the second arm, stripped down, and had Sherlock melting into a mass of flesh who could only seem to moan and chant ‘ _Please, John_ ’ over and over when.  
“John.”  
“Yes, Sherlock, I’m looking for the lube now hold on.”  
“No, John, Freya-”  
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about our child while having sex?”  
“She’s awake, go check”  
John groaned and rolled out of his spot between the others thighs, “Sorry, I’d get her but, as you can see, I’m a bit tied up at the moment. Put on pants and check on her.”

Half an hour later John came back, Freya upstairs still crying, “She’s having a reaction to the new formula, probably won’t go back to sleep and hasn’t stopped throwing up,” Sherlock sat up as well as he could seeing as he was still tied to the frame, “Untie me, you go to the shop and I’ll stay with her.” John noded and did so.

His wrist still ached from straining against them earlier but with the 8 pounds of crying baby in his arms, vomiting and crying, he ignored it. He looked at the ingredients and quickly realized it was the lactose in it, texted John and told him to get a soy base one. Smiling, Sherlock placed her in the swing, only to have her throw up once again all over herself the moment the thing turned on. Cursing, he took her out, changed her outfit again and walked around the flat feeding her a bottle full of water, which she seemed to be able to keep down.

When John came back, the sun was creeping up on the city and Freya was fighting her sleep, “I’ll make her a bottle, go to sleep, John,” He shook his head, wondering in the kitchen and starting the bottle.

John fell asleep while feeding Freya on their bed, Sherlock moved her upstairs and threw a blanket over John before heading into the snow.

\-------------

“Hello, Catherine, may I come in?”  
The woman nodded and waved her arm in, hair sporting fresh blonde highlights that looked odd in her dark hair and long nails now blue instead of the cotton candy pink they were beforehand. Sherlock followed her to the kitchen, where she got an apple, leaned against the table, and bit in, “I need to know why you didn’t tell me you and your daughter had a disagreement the last time you saw her,” the question didn’t seem to catch her off guard like Sherlock had thought, “My daughter was a slut, Mr. Holmes. I didn’t want her thinking she and her ungodly baby were going to stay in my house once she had it, so I did what any mother with a whore daughter would do, I kicked her out.”

He held back the urge to punch this ape of a woman the same way he did Mitchell Miller, “But she was due soon, correct?” she pulsed her horrible shade of red lips together before biting into the apple again, “Does it look like I give a shit?”  
“But if she was to have her baby without a place to live it would be bad for both mother and child!”  
“Listen, my daughter is dead, its been over a month with no sign of either her or Poppy. Get the hell out of my house. Now, detective.”

He left the flat in a fit of rage, he couldn’t help it when it came out, it just flew ,like verbal diarrhea everywhere. He had one foot out of the front door when he turned around and announced to nobody, because Catherine didn’t even bother to leave her kitchen, “Freya, or ‘Poppy’ as you know her, is a happy, healthy, baby girl who doesn’t need a _Eiter gefüllt_ human being, such as yourself, around her,” and he had meant to leave before hearing the woman’s answer but still got the, “Well shit, I was hoping that the second hand smoke would have messed her up.”


	4. Shark bodies with dog heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They travel to Great Yarmouth in an attempt to get some information about Olivia and who would want to hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy crap im so sorry you guys i haven't had internet for a week or so and im trying my hardest to get this up im so sorry again for the wait! I tried to make up for it by making a HP reference. 
> 
> Also I am an American trying my best to get things around England in this right if I get anything wrong tell me please.

Hailing a taxi, he pinned all the points together in his mind.

_She was due soon, Freya being only a few hours old when found, Olivia didn’t go into labour for another two weeks. She could have stayed at a shelter, but she was angry and scared so she would have stayed with family or friends._

Sherlock looked at the Burr household, another woman holding a toddler walking up the steps.

_Sister!_

He practically ran to the steps before stopping, the fact he can't go inside and talk to the sister hitting him as he hit the first step. He groaned and went back to street to a cab.

_I need the names of all the children of Catherine Veronica Burr -SH_

Mycroft would give him the names, Sherlock knew this, Freya had him wrapped around her little finger just as badly as she did John since the moment they went to the hospital and would probably arrange to get her a penguin if she wanted one. To find the killer of her mother, well, that would just be the three of them trying to protect her as much as possible. His mobile alerted him with an answer of ‘ _Fine_ ’ from Mycroft. _Meeting, not wanting to get flustered during it. Imporant meting_

\-------------

“Freya come on, Daddy hasn’t been able to put you down at all today” John bounced the baby from side to side, “Look, Look, Look, Love, Octonauts!” hoping the tv with the bear and penguin helping the cat would make her let him put her in the bouncer long enough to piss but instead she let out a, “burrtpul numnerbea! Lalalalalopiny Caluuuphhhh!” which, if John had to guess, ment “Daddy, I don’t care about these stupid things, PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!!!!” He twirled around the flat like a lame ballerina, Freya seemed to love it though, squealing high pitched when John would spin them.

He made her a bottle one handed and sat her in the bouncer even though she started crying. Sherlock came bounding up the steps, out of breath, “I’ve got something!”

“Got something? Got what?”

“Names, John, Names!” He grinned at the doctor, took his face, and gave him a quick kiss before diving on to the sofa and opening this emails on his laptop. Freya called for John’s attention again, he picked her up and sat on the sofa.

“Names of who?” the small bundle in his arm reaching out for something to gnaw on, “Children of the horrible woman that is Freya’s biological grandmother! I saw one of them going into her flat after she kicked me out an-”

“She kicked you out? Why?”

“Because she’s a horrible woman, did you not just hear me?” He clicked through the until the file popped open:

_Bailey Marie Burr (Calico est 2009)-27 years old [explan file]_

_Johnson Alexander Burr-25 years old [explan file]_

_Terry Harold Burr- 22 years old [explan file]_

_Olivia Wallonia Burr-19 years old [explan file]_

Gumming on John’s forefinger, Freya called out “BAAAAAALALAPPPPHHH” Sherlock looked at her, her blue eyes massive with joy and smiling around the digit that she had taken to chew on, “Do you want to go on your first investigation, Freya?” she cooed back, him taking the ‘fuuuuulssssssh’ as a “Yes, Papa, I’d love to go on this adventure”, and opened the file on Bailey Burr, “Get her bag together, John, we’re going to Great Yarmouth, Ms. Bailey Marie Burr will be of help to us.”

\-------------

“Are you sure Mrs. Hudson will be okay with Tibs?”

“Yes, John, I’m sure she’ll be fine."

Even though the baby babbled from her carry car seat John was still scared, "She's never been away from Tiberius longer than a trip to the store or when she had to get her shots. I don't know if she'll be good overnight" Sherlock pitched her cheeks, making her make a funny face, "who said anything about overnight?" She made a fishy face and giggled,

"Well its about noon now, its about a 5 hour commute to and back on a good day without a heap load of traffic, so just from travel we would be home by 5 maybe 6 o'clock at night. That's not including the time it's going to take us to find this woman and you to pester and deduce her plus dinner and having to feed her. On a quick thing it would take us a total of 7 hours minimum. She gets fussy at around 8. We're staying in a hotel."

While John got them a room at a nice little bed and breakfast Sherlock and Freya went to find Bailey Burr. He changed her into a fresh nappy and put her in the buggy. He hated the thing so much, would rather just hold her because it was much easier, John on the other hand demand the use of it any time they go outside. He debated if he should 'accidentally' leave it in the cab but decided against it.

Freya kept quite, much more intent on looking around this new place and the people that busheled by then her Papa.

_Bailey Burr is the eldest, married, and has one young child. She was visiting Catherine, meaning she has to be on good terms with her mother, but she couldn't have been happy about the fact Olivia was kicked out, being as she herself has a young little girl who can't be more than 4 years old, so she could have gone there to lecture her mother about it_.

He stopped in front of house, Freya babbling to herself from her spot inside the buggy, before tipping it back on its wheels and pushing her up the steps. After a couple moments of waiting a woman with dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun with a small red paint hand print on her cheek, “Hello?” and smaller version of her came running behind her, two bright red painted hands calling for her, “MUMMY MUMMY YOUR CHEEK IS RED STILL!” the little girl called out before realizing the chatting baby, “MUM LOOK A BAYBAY ISN’T SHE CUTE!” The woman picked up the little girl before she could go after Freya, “Ginny didn’t I tell you to wash your hands? Go,” the bouncing ball ran off into the house giggling. She looked at Sherlock and smiled, “May I help you?”

“Yes, my sister called me after her fit with mum,” Bailey poured a cuppa for them both, “She stayed with us until the day before she went missing, I thought she was going to stay with whatshisfact but she never got there because I called her that night and got no answer,” Ginny came running back in and asked if she may see the ‘baybay’ Bailey denied by saying, “She’s still tiny and could break easily plus I don’t think Mr.....”

“Holmes”

“Holmes’s wife”

“Boyfriend”

“Boyfriend would want their daughter broken! Now go play, Ginny! Anyways, there was no answer so I called Mum and she said she hadn’t seen her since she kicked her out and neither had the asshole so I called our dad and I guess he called the police,” Sherlock hummed as he sipped the tea, “Your little girl is so cute, how old is she?” Bailey peeped inside the stroller and smiled at Freya, who blew raspberries back at her, “Almost two months” She smiled and went to started bustling around to make dinner, “That’s how old Poppy would be” it seemed to take her a moment, Sherlock knew it would, but it did kick in, “That’s Poppy isn’t it?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Oh god no! You seem like a great man and she seems to be well off”

“Looks can be deceiving, the your sister’s boyfriend looked like a nice man,”

Ginny came in then and looked at Sherlock, “You mean Mitch? Mitch is mean, he hurts my Aunt ‘Livia. She’s gonna have a baybay you know, Granny Catty said ‘Liva s’not supporta be havin’ a baybay, ‘cause her and Mitch aren’t married but Mummy said that baybay Poppy is different, she’s ‘Livia’s angel to make Mitch stop hurtin’ her. Did he stop Mummy?” Sherlock undid Freya’s buckling and held her close to Ginny, “Mitch isn’t going to hurt your Aunt Olivia or baby Poppy ever again, I promise.”

Ginny sat in her seat at the table, kicking her feet and eating her ‘bloody noodles’ as she called it, while Bailey walked the two of them out, “I hoped you don’t mind that we didn’t look for any family,” Bailey smiled and put a hand on her stomach, “You taking her is great, she needs a proper family and god knows Mitch wasn’t going to be a father of any kind, plus with baby number two on the way me and my husband couldn’t do it nor could my brothers.” He pushed her to the main street and called a taxi.

_Dinner? -SH_


	5. I am Sam I am and I do not like Green Eggs And Ham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys im so sorry, my wifi has just recently got turned back on. I'm thinking this only has a couple more chapters before i finish it. This is just a little bit, I should have something longer posted soon!

They opted for takeout and spent the evening eating chinese food while Freya babbled over her fist in her mouth in John's lap,

“You know that can’t taste possibly taste any good” Sherlock had said picking up some noodles with the sticks, Freya giving him a look as if to say, _‘Yes who’s the one eating noodles that look like the were dipped in poo?_ ’ John interrupted the stare down, "What did Bailey Burr say?"

"Olivia was outclassed by most of the family, highly "image is everything" family. Only her and their father would talk to Miss Olivia. She said Olivia was going to go talk to someone when she left. That was the day before they found Freya."

"Did she say who?"

"No," Sherlock crunched into an egg roll, "god how I wish there was a body, make all this a lot easier. Tomorrow we'll go back to bakers street," he leaned over and tapped on his laptop, bringing the once blackened screen to lift, "unless you want to check the other sibling with me," Freya's head dropped on to John’s chest, side of her mouth slacking and drooling coming over, “Depends how she holds up, but probably yes, we’ll be coming along” John shifted to cradelle Freya properly in his arm, “Who’s the closest?” Sherlock clicked from his spot on the hotel’s bed, “Terry Harold Burr, Lowestoft. The other she couldn’t have seen, says here Jackson Alexander Burr lives in America, Florida it says here. Have you ever been to Florida, John?” John was placing the 2 month old in the middle of the bed and placing a pillow barrier around her, “No, I haven’t,” Sherlock nodded, “Good, God awful place. Went to some town called Melbourne” He played every syllable slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he was saying it right, “To look at a murder. Mycroft had made me, had some sort of affair with the murder girls’ mother and wanted me to find the killer. The man also got me too, if it wasn’t that he wore an unusual type of shoe and the victim’s dyed bright red hair was found at his home.”

\--------------

John groaned and pressed the heel of his palm to his eye and Freya seemed to do the same.

She hadn't slept much that night, maybe 4 hours, 5 tops plus some odd minutes at could maybe add up to an hour, John doesn't know. He was put on baby duty after 6am, when he forced Sherlock to lay down, told him he was going to take Freya on a walk and that when he came back he'd have coffee ("I'll have tea John," " You're getting coffee, you'll need it!") But more hopefully, a sleeping baby.

She was bundled up in her blankets and a jacket, snow crunching under John and the stroller, giggling at the little huffs of breath that made her look like a baby dragon. Her carrier was placed to face John, who couldn't help smile at her, she reached out her little hands to catch the falling snow but couldn't go further than the overhang of her car seat. He had nowhere to go, just popped into random shops that were opened at 7 am: a candy shop, a few clothes shops, as and a toy store.

He hid them from the cold inside a bookstore, the woman had cooed at Freya, who was too engrossed in the smush John handed to had then the lady, and started small talk up "You in know, your daughter is very beautiful,” Freya let out a sound, no doubt telling the woman how yes, Freya was in fact beautiful and more people needed to take that into account, “Is mum no longer in the picture? She can’t be more than a couple of months old, very brave of you to be raising her on your own,” John smiled back and tried to figure out if she was flirting with him or not, not that he could really figure out for Christ sakes he lived with sherlock for years without realizing that both Sherlock and he himself were in love with the other, “My boyfriend and I adopted her when she was a couple of weeks old,” The woman smiled, offered him the back corner where there were baby’s books.

Freya was fast asleep after John got halfway through “I do not like green eggs and ham”


	6. Mr. Moth fly away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the killer is found!

After hours of sleeping, a disgruntled Sherlock refused to leave the hotel’s bed, “John, it makes no sense. It is cold out there and warm in this bed, why would you want me to leave it? Now, you and Freya come here and we’ll stay in this nice bed all nice and toasty,” John groaned but handed him the baby, “Because we have to find her mother” he tucked her into his arm before falling back onto the hoarder of pillows behind him, “Olivia Burr is dead, what more do you want from me, John I can’t bring the woman back to life and even if i could, why would i? I know I can’t imagine my life without Freya,” John sat down on the bed, “Because what if the person who killed Olivia wants to hurt Freya? They don’t want her to be alive or else they would have put her in the damn trash, Sherlock,” He gave Sherlock a kiss on the head before standing up, “Now come on.”

 

Freya had rested her head against Sherlock’s chest fast asleep while they rode in the taxi to Lowestoft, John tried but gave up on trying to bush down the tight curls she was developing. “Terry is on this side, why would she have been in London?”

“How would I know John, maybe Olivia had her in London and, though unlikely based off her attitude and actions throughout the whole pregnancy, she threw the newborn in the trash, but even then Mrs Hemsworthly’s account calls for a man with dark hair and green eyes, Olivia Burr had dark hair that was curled and bright blue eyes.”

 

John went pass the small gate first and held it open for Sherlock and the buggy. A dog sounded the alarm inside and before they could even get to the front door Terry Burr was outside, “Hello, may I help you?” The man was taller than John but shorter than Sherlock with short dark brown hair and green eyes in a suit without a tie. _Just came home from work_ , “Yes, we’re here to talk to you about your sister Olivia,” Terry looked at Sherlock, looked at the buggy, looked at John, then ran and jumped over the small brick wall and down the street.

 

Before he could think, Sherlock reached inside, grabbed Freya, held her close to his chest, and took off after him quickly followed by John.

 

They made it halfway down two streets over before Freya poked her little head up the best she could and let a noise that Sherlock, if he was to being at the time, took as “I was asleep for how long and you two bloody idiots got yourselfs into what now?” but other than that she was quite as they ran. John ran asif his life depended on it, getting closer and closer to the suited up man until he sprung like cat and toppled over Terry. He held him down, a small crowd starting to gather around them now, and breathed heavily, “Call Lestrade, Sherlock.”

 

\-------------

 

“Where’s Olivia?”

“Mainly in the stomach of an ol’ ‘gator in Florida but I think there’s still sum of her in my freezer”

Lestrade and John both demanded Both him and Sherlock stay out of the room, If Sherlock beat the man who abused Oliva he’d probably kill Terry Burr.

“You’re tellin’ me, you cut up your own sister?” Lestrade looked like he was going to ill, “And sent her to-”

“To my brother in Florida, nice lil town he lives in, Mims, nobody questions why he was going fishin’ so often, most of those stupid rednecks do it every day,”

“So your brother knows that’s her sister?”  
“Oh nononono, Johnson’s a bloody idiot, he thinks it’s good ol’ fashion sheep. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ate some but it could have gone bad in the shippin’ so....... I don’t know” He looked smug and everyone around, Lestrade inside the room and Sherlock, John, and Donovan watching in on it, wanted to punch it off of him.

“Why’d you do it?”  
“Well if you’d shut up, I’d tell you” He rerolled his sleeves up and looked up at Lestrade from his seat, Lestrade having to have get away from him when he admitted to killing his sister.

 

“My sister, Olivia, you see, was a whore. She got knocked up at 18 and turned 19 while pregnant. Now, my and Mum’s plan was just to disown her when Poppy came, not give her or the shitchild she would give birth to anything, but she came to me asking if she could get a ride over to London when I went to work in the morning. It wasn’t me that said yes that was my stupid wife. So that night I text my Mum and tell her, she tells me to bring Olivia to her in the morning, so I do. We get there and Mum knocks her out with vase right, I was terrified like ‘Mum what are you doing?’ you know? Then it hit me what she was doing, we were never going to get this slut out of our life unless we....... Cut her out of it,” He smirked to himself at the pun he made.

 

“So I hauled her body to the tub and went to slit her throat but then she wakes up and starts screaming. The bitch was going into labour! So to get her to shut up Mum had her bit down on a rubber ducky and when Poppy popped out Mum cut the cord and I slit Olivia’s throat. I said we should have killed the baby too but she said it would be another body to get rid of, so she had me change and go a whiles away from her flat and some ol’ barod saw me but not the baby."

 

“I come back and Mum is freakin’ out so I call in sick and tell her I’ll deal with the body. So I cut her up in the tub and Mum went out and out tupperware for us to ship her over to Johnson. Then I just cleaned everything up all nice and went home.”

 

“You are one sick, sick man.”

 

\-------------

 

John’s sitting in the back with Mrs. Hudson to his left with a babbling 4 month old Freya in her lap, no doubt telling her about Tib becoming Sherlock little test subject the night before, Sherlock hadn’t come, one because he hated court cases and two he needed to take care of the boxer with the runs at home. The case had gone pretty well, no doubt in anyone’s mind that Terry Burr wasn’t guilty seeing how the man confessed to it. To John’s right sat Mrs. Bailey sporting a baby bump with her husband, Jordon, and Ginny, who cooed over Freya every time she got the opportunity. Catherine had trailed later in year.

  
Freya let out her favourite tridactyl noise of, what seemed like to John and everyone else, joy when Terry Burr was found guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me through this! It's my first real one that isn't short and Im pretty proud of it.


End file.
